Cisco woke up on the concrete. He jumped to his feet and turned in a dizzy circle. How the heck did he end up here?
The information scrolled across his mind like a computer screen and Cisco’s mouth dropped open. “Woah."
This was new.
He searched his mind for recent memories and they came easily. It had been five months since Eddie died. Since they defeated Dr. Wells. He was on his way home when…
He lost consciousness? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Confused, he took a step out of the dark alley. The light pierced his eyes and he hissed, stepping back. The world felt sharp, like he was on caffeine. It smelled different too. Rain.
What on Earth was going on here?
Something was tight around his neck. Cisco reached up and tugged it off. A dark blue scarf. Was he wearing this before? Where did it come from?
Cisco ran his fingers across the surface.
And suddenly he wasn’t in Central City.
“I hate tea so I don’t buy any.”
“You don’t know how you’re doing it?”
“I’m not going to be the hostage.”
“… Dr. Wells?”
Cisco gasped. His throat was dry and his hand shook.
How could he forget? He picked up the scarf.
Sherlock Holmes' scarf. Cisco smirked.
“Dude. I met freaking Sherlock Holmes.”
Quickly, Cisco pulled himself to his feet. He needed to find Barry. Barry remembered. He was waiting for Cisco to remember.
Cisco ran without knowing where he was going. He ran and ran and somehow he ended up at Jitters. This navigation-thingy he had going on was proving useful.
Jitters was a mess. Dark. Gloomy. Dusty. Destroyed by the singularity.
And Barry Allen sat in the middle of it. Alone. Cisco’s chest clenched. Barry had been isolated long enough. They both had.
Not anymore. Together.
Cisco stepped through the door and stood on the threshold. Barry’s eyes shot up to meet his and Cisco’s throat was suddenly not so dry. He smiled wearily.
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